Overrated
by aquajogger
Summary: Quick Kitchel semiPOV. Not poetry so much as the including of a couple AIM bios to split up the story. Possible ThxKitxTet. Give it a chance?


Dedication: This is dedicated to Yokai no Miko. Please tell me I spelled it correctly this time. So sorry if I didn't... Anyway, it's dedicated to her valor in pursuing our goal of World Domin-- Thatchel writing. I said Thatchel writing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Knights. I had a dream in which I was that main character dude from "Bread"(Anime show... I don't think it's been released here... Bloody funny. Go check it out.), but I don't own that, either.

Warnings: ...Just weird..

:n:

:The violet silk falls over her shoulders, mixing with the drifting petals and shimmering lights.

A glimpse of velvet lips,

A flash of auburn hair,

A whisper of a dancing smile.

Her eyes shine with nocturnal magic.

Ignoring the voices whispering in the pitch;

Love exists.

But only if one is willing to step out into the stars.:

Soft footfalls though stone-dry caves, closely followed by cheerful, upbeat voices.

A teenaged girl, and her smaller companion, both given the task of finding and now protecting and delivering three unusual items. Journeying together across a mental plane far different than either could have imagined, meeting up with old enemies, but yet to find a friendly face.

Except those seen, peering through layers of official uniforms and regulations, several long nights ago.

A set of three inexperienced Dragon Fighters, and one lone, knowledgeable Officer.

But she never did get his name.

:Sorry that I'm not here at the moment. I'm off dreaming of the scent of sage and cinnamon, vanilla and sea breezes. I'm fantasizing about softly rocking boats under the glow of a setting sun, and soft white hotel beds, illuminated by the light of a false moon. I'm thinking about treasures and bartenders, faeries and specters, dragons and thieves.

Yes, I am lost, yet again, in pools of green and gold.:

His face is brought up to the beginning of her memory, and a new topic arises: Who he is, what he is, how to think of him.

And, as Ringleys points out, maybe he's gay.

That would render this conversation pointless, wouldn't it.

But until then, he can become the object of desire, the man to lust after. The rugged body sex king of all time.

Who needs any of those other guys? Not her. They don't even come close to measuring up.

Irritating reminders are pushed away, told to come back later, never. Logic is never appreciated when dreaming of a knight in shining armor who will never return.

Heroes are overrated.

:So I hang around.

Listening to "This Kiss", admiring the way my nails look, breathing in the smell of plywood.

And suddenly this feeling overwhelms me, drowning me in endless pools of golden green and rushing me through a swirling static torrent of paper.

Like the time I watched Inuyasha for too long.

And I reach down, pick up my map and dagger, feel the worn parchment and cool iron beneath my fingers.

Notice the way the roses overlap the leaves.

Suddenly.

I remember, suddenly.

And everything fades away.

So here I am, sitting behind the computer screen, a stack of dreams piled on the desk beside me, waiting for the spinning of the room to slow.

And wondering whatever happened to the crash of waves.:

But that was another logical idea, she realizes, falling strangely silent for the first time on this eons long adventure.

Screw reality.

"...Kitchel?" Ringleys looked at the girl walking alongside him, "Kitchel?"

She jerked her head up to meet his hovering form, eyes slowly coming back to earth. Or, in their case, Dusis. Possibly still Arinas.

"What is it?" she asked, a cheerful smile on her face once more.

"Oh. Nothing. You were just quiet," Ringleys shrugged, "It was weird."

The girl grinned, "I see."

"Mind if I ask what you were thinking about? That Officer guy, again?"

She paused.

"Yeah. But you know what?"

"What?"

"Heroes are overrated."

Kitchel relished the look of confusion plastered on her Faerie companion's face, the way his eyes searchingly met hers, pleading for an explanation.

"So," her grin became genuine, "What do you think the treasures are supposed to be used for?"

And lighthearted chatter mingled with padding footsteps through the desert-still caves once more.

:n:

:blinking: And this is what you get when I realize I have less than an hour to get something written and posted. The (hopefully) bolded segments are some of my old AIM bios, and the rest of it is a short Kitchel semi-POV from when she and Ringleys were inside the caves with the Three Treasures, during Book 13.

Is this a KitxTet, a KitxRing, a Thatchel, or some weird combination of all of those? I hope it's not the second one... Please review?


End file.
